


All That and a Bottle of Jack

by AlvaDomer



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gang Rape, M/M, Underage Prostitution, serious not sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-30 01:20:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19031821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlvaDomer/pseuds/AlvaDomer
Summary: Jason had to find a way to make it work on the streets before he ever stumbled across the batmobile.





	All That and a Bottle of Jack

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kurenai_Tenka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurenai_Tenka/gifts).



> Hi wow so I’ve been dormant for centuries. This is the first work I’ve actually completed in a long time. I was given the idea to post it, and after hours of deliberation, I decided I would. I hope you enjoy it, readers!

When most people heard the word ‘prostitute’, the image that popped into their head was of the Hollywood whore. Big breasted women with skimpy skirts, fishnets, and far too much makeup. And sure, there were some women who filled that stereotype. But in reality, the night streets were  _ cold _ . No one in their right mind kept the slutty look up for very long, especially with undercover cops on the prowl. 

 

Fourteen and hungry, Jason looked like any other idiot teenager. Cheap sneakers, shoplifted Levi’s jeans, and a plain bargain store t-shirt beneath a winter jacket lifted from one of his Johns. The only things that gave away what he was willing to do was the way he never left the street corner, and his eyes. Jason made eye contact with the driver of each passing car, luring them in like a siren. 

 

Finally a car pulled up to the curb. The window rolled down and Jason approached cautiously. “Price?” the man asked. White. Middle-aged. The face of a forgettable background character. They always looked like that. 

 

“Forty for my mouth. Eighty for my ass,” Jason answered sweetly. He had an act to keep up or he might lose business. These men were on the hunt and Jason had to make it clear that he was willing prey. 

 

“Get in.”

 

Jason obeyed. 

 

Each time Jason hopped into the passenger seat, it could’ve been for the last time. And each time Jason went with these strange men, he didn’t care. What more could they do to him? He had been hurt so much already. 

 

“So uh,” the man tapped his fingers along his steering wheel anxiously, “how old are you?” Jason barely kept from rolling eyes. 

 

“Old enough,” he replied cutely. The amount of sugar he spoke with made him want to gag.  _ Maybe I should just tie him to the bed and run. _ Jason had only done that a handful of times. Do it too much and word gets out. Not that people would be able to tell a white kid with black hair apart from all the others vying for a ‘job’ in Gotham. But there was no point in hurting long term business for short term success. 

 

The driver cleared his throat. “So what’s your name? I’m—“

 

Jason cut him off. “Look man, don’t make this weird.” The John shut his mouth obediently. The rest of the drive was a tense, but blissful silence. The John eventually pulled into a hotel parking garage, and Jason looked around with vague curiosity. It was an upscale place, and the garage was full with expensive cars.  _ Maybe I will tie him up. _

 

“Come with me,” the driver ordered, stepping out of the vehicle. Jason took his last chance to roll his eyes into oblivion, and then followed. 

 

In through a door and they had entered an incredibly high class looking lobby. An enormous eight-tier chandelier hung from the ceiling. Jason couldn’t tear his eyes away from the glittering crystals as he was led into an elevator. 

 

The elevator of course was all mirrors and fine wood paneling.  _ Too late to up my price? _ Jason wondered, biting his lower lip. “Just so you know, dinner is part of my price,” he declared. The man sighed and he added, “Nothing expensive, but I expect a real meal.”

 

“I like a man who knows what he wants,” the John replied jokingly.  _ Glad I got that last eyeroll in in the car. _

 

The elevator chimed and the doors slid open. Jason followed the man down the hall and stopped in front of his hotel room. When the door opened, Jason’s eyes widened. Three over men smiled back at him. Two on the couch, one pouring a drink from the in-room bar. 

 

Jason gasped and took a startled step back. He stepped right into the John’s hands, which shoved him forward into the room. Jason scrambled for balance. He avoided falling. His heart thundered in his ears but he could still hear the locks click in place. “I charge extra for more people!” Jason warned, as if that would suddenly make them lose interest. “Two-for-one deal, how about that?”

 

“Hey,” one of the men on the couch said sharply, rising to his feet. “You fucking punk!”

 

“Do I know you?” Jason asked dryly. 

 

“This little fucker stole from me!”

 

Jason tossed his head back and groaned loudly at the ceiling. “Oh goddammit.”

 

He knew this song and dance. Jason was grabbed from behind, fists full of fabric. Just fabric. He pulled his arms from his sleeves, leaving the John with an empty jacket. Jason turned so that he could see all four men in his peripheral vision. 

 

“You’re not leaving here until we say so, kid.” Generic NPC lines. It could be a video game. Some loser was playing GTA right now while Jason was out here living it.  _ Great. Fucking great. _ “Just do what we say.”

 

“You’re paying up either way,” the angry John snarled. Amazing. His life was on the line and Jason had never felt less threatened. These men were just so...boring. Forgettable.  _ I’m about to be traumatized and I won’t even remember what they look like. _

 

Jason stared straight through them. He was making eye contact, supposedly. But it was as if sentient, shouting blurs stood in their place.  _ When was the last time I ate? _ Jason wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.  _ That _ was what he was worried about?

 

“You’re going to make it all up to my friend here,” another John spoke up, gesturing to his angry friend. They were all slowly closing in now, tightening a circle like jackals.  _ This is a fight you won’t win. _

 

Jason put his fists up.

 

_ I’ve had worse odds. _

 

Offensive. Had to be on the offensive. Jason lunged. The John shouted. A decent upper cut, Jason managed to impress himself. The John’s head snapped back, he staggered. Fell against the hotel room bar. Jason turned to face another, dodging a blow as he lunged like a viper. The dull sound of contact. Jason barely felt it. Too much adrenaline. 

 

He certainly heard the reaction. The John yelped, wheezing as he grasped as his chest. Knocked the wind right out of him. Jason spun to throw another punch.  _ Fuck! _ A firm kick to the back of his knees threw his balance. As he struggled to maintain it, a fist landed against the back of his skull. Black. 

 

“—ot going to fuck a dead kid!”

 

“Oh please, he’s not—see! He’s not dead!” They were bickering like idiots. Jason’s head lolled. His sneakers scraped against the floor uselessly as he tried to regain his footing. His body couldn’t tell up from down yet. There were elbows hooked under his arms, dragging him back toward the bed.  _ Fuck. Gotta get away. Gotta... _

 

“Yeah but—“

 

“For Christ’s sake,” another interjected, “he was out for what? Ten seconds? Fifteen? He’s hardly braindead, idiot. And besides. He stole from Chester! You’re really going to leave Chester hanging?”

 

“Yeah, you’re really going to leave me hanging?” Chester, apparently, doubled down. 

 

“You motherfuckers,” Jason managed to hiss. He could finally curl his fingers, started regaining his footing. 

 

“Quite the opposite, actually,” one of the men replied sweetly.  _ What is it with villains and one liners? _ Jason had a strange disconnect from reality. He felt himself get thrown onto the bed. His perspective shifted as he was thrown onto the bed. But he could not actually grasp that it was real. This was going to happen. His head throbbed and his stomach growled and he was alarmingly cold. 

 

Jason came back into control of his arms. His swings weren’t as powerful as he hoped, but he was rapidly regaining his full strength. And these fuckers noticed. As Jason began kicking and throwing punches, the men descended into chaotic, disordered shouting at one another. 

 

“Hold him!”

 

“You hold him!”

 

“Just—grab his—grab his fucking—“

 

“Why don’t you—“

 

“I  _ said _ —“

 

As they hollered at and over one another, Jason’s arms were pinned to the bed. His fight or flight kicked into overdrive. He thrashed and bit like a wild animal. “Get the fuck off of me!” Jason snarled as one of the men struggled to pin his legs down. “Let go! I said get off me! Fucking—“

 

Rage turned to fear in an instant. Hands were working open his pants zipper. Jason was hyperventilating, jabbing his knee into the side of the man over and over. The John grunted in pain and simply sat his knees down on top of Jason’s leg. “You can make this easier,” the man said breathlessly. Jesus Christ, these fuckers had broken a sweat just trying to keep him against the bed. 

 

Even in danger, Jason couldn’t help but judge the bastards. “What part of ‘get off me’ don’t you  _ fucking _ understand?!” he roared. “You-you do this and I’m going to make you fucking regret it!”

 

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” the only man not actively holding him down replied. He smiled down at Jason, condescending, predatorial. He set his glass and bottle of whiskey aside, sitting on the side of the bed. 

 

Jason let out a piercing, horrified scream as his pants and underwear were ripped from his hips. “Shit!” “Fuck!” “Shut him up!” Jason was suddenly smothered by a pillow.  _ No way, no-no-no, not like this, no! _ His mind was a constant stream of horrified disbelief. 

 

But he wasn’t killed. Not yet. The pillow was removed. When Jason tried to open his mouth, his own boxers were shoved inside to shut him up.  _ You animals! You cowards! You fucking piece of shit— _ Jason wanted nothing more to snarl and scream. But then he saw the man at his feet begin to unzip his own pants. For some reason, none of it had seemed truly  _ real _ until this moment. 

 

“No!  _ No!” _ he tried screaming. It came out muffled nonsense. They wouldn’t have listened. Men like this never did. 

 

Jason tried to scream as loud as he could, but the cloth choked out most of the sound. His arms and legs were pinned. There was no way left to fight. This was the time the heroes would arrive. Any moment now, the caped crusader would bust through the window, single handedly take down every one of these guys, and leave with Jason in his arms. Except, superheroes had no time for people like Jason.

 

Lube was handed over above his head. Jason’s stomach dropped. ” _ No! NO!” _ It was slathered over the man’s fingers, his cock, everywhere Jason didn’t want.” _ H-help! Someone help me!” _ They were laughing. Didn’t mean it. So tense. Knew what they were doing was wrong. 

 

Jason screamed and arched his back wildly as two fingers were forced inside of him. His eyes bulged as the small of his back lit up in pain. 

 

Yes, superheroes were reserved for hurtling meteors and trains off the rail. They couldn’t give fewer shits about some punk kid from inner Gotham. If he wanted to be rescued, he was going to have to do it himself. 

 

He tried to clench but it stopped nothing. Jason squealed and cringed at every sensation. He could feel every goddamn twitch of the man’s fingers, the scrape of dirty fingernails. Too much, too fast. Not enough lube and it fucking  _ hurt _ . Jason kept fighting, twisting and trying to kick. The grip on his arms and legs didn’t give. The fingers were removed. 

 

_ Fuck! Fuck! _ Jason couldn’t speak. Tried to scream, only got more laughter. Was his muffled fear really so funny? This was just a joke to them. A fun way to pass the time.  _ Stop! No! Just stop! Stop! _ He didn’t. The stranger pressed up his hips against Jason's snugly. He didn’t even try to make it slow. Jason’s eyes bulged as he felt the man’s cock pressed against his ass. Then it was in. 

 

Jason screamed. Tried to. Again. It didn’t make a sound. Again. Not fully. It was choked off and suffocated before it even had a chance, just like everything else in his miserable life. Jason screamed and warped his body like a possessed creature. But the men gripped him tighter, Jason could feel the bruises they would leave behind already. 

 

All he could see was the ceiling. There were faces grinning down at him, sure. At least, Jason thought they were grinning. He wasn’t sure. They all blurred together; one uniform vision of an eyeless canvas, flesh in color and full of nothing but teeth. 

 

The cock inside of him cared nothing for pace. In and out at jackhammer speed, lighting up Jason’s entire groin. It felt like he was on fire. It felt like he was going to die. He felt nothing. There was a raging fire of agony inside, Jason thought the damage would be irreparable. But he  _ felt _ nothing. He kept contorting himself. Trying to escape was fear. The tears rimming his eyes were anger. But his heart was numb. His heart may as well have been ripped out of him. 

 

“Are you going to cry?”

 

“What a little bitch.”

 

“And you acted so tough earlier. How’s my cock feel, slut?”

 

In one ear, out the other. He heard but did not register. Saw but did not understand. Rage, indignation, pain, nothing. Louder than anything was the sound of flesh against flesh. Each grunt and heavy breath that meant  _ someone  _ was actually getting something from this. Someone was enjoying it. 

 

The breakneck pace suddenly came to a halt. A long, drawn out groan.  _ That means he came, _ Jason realized far too slowly. No condom. He was surely bleeding.  _ What if I catch something? Am I going to die? _ The thoughts were surreal, separate from himself. Any other time and the idea would have terrified him. But Jason couldn’t physically respond at a more intense level; he had reached all that he was capable of. Every muscle tight, overcome with nausea, heart pounding so hard it  _ hurt _ . This was fear.  _ I don’t want to die. _

 

The man between his legs pulled out, jerked himself off a few times to make sure he had given all that he could, and laughed. There they all went laughing again.  _ Why? _ Jason realized he had stopped struggling. 

 

As they began trading positions, exchanging who held what limb so that the next could have his turn, Jason began kicking and screaming all over again. When he tried to shake his leg loose, his eyes bulged in pain. A bolt of lightning shot up his spine all the way into his brain. It was paralyzing.  _ Fuck! _ His mind spiraled.  _ What if I can’t ever walk again? Fuck, fuck! _ A second, much more detached voice chimed in,  _ That’s really what you’re worried about right now? Come on, fight back! _ The tears burned his eyes.  _ I’m trying! _

 

The next John settled himself against Jason’s hips. Far too little lube, there seemed to be a pattern.  _ Fuck _ . His thighs were gripped tightly, and Jason let out a keening wail as he felt the new cock enter him. It was slow this time—slower, at least. 

 

Hot, heavy panting above him as pain ripped through him below. The smell of whiskey hit his face with every eager breath. Time ceased to exist. It went on forever. No end. No beginning. Just the heat from each grunt and the stomach-churning smell that accompanied it.   _ Stop, stop, stop, stop, _ a mantra. A prayer. 

 

Even when that prayer was answered, it wasn’t. Not really. That John may have stopped, but another eagerly replaced him. Jason tried again to kick and break free, but shit, he was getting tired. He strained and twisted and screamed, but it got him nowhere. And for some reason, it was just so  _ fucking  _ funny to these animals. 

 

That’s what they were. Animals. No human would do this. No person with a soul and conscience would ever abuse another like this. A hatred was sweeping into Jason’s heart like an oil spill. It choked out all other feeling. He wasn’t even scared anymore.  _ I meant what I said _ . He was going to make them  _ pay _ .

 

The John’s grip tightened, another telltale groan. Jason was still as the man climbed off of him. The last John made his move. And at the same time, so did another. “No, we had the order worked out before,” the first began, as if he knew this argument was going to happen. 

 

“I’m getting real sick of waiting.”

 

“Yeah and so am I! But you fucking went already! And you’re not the one who bought the hotel room, are you?”

 

“I bought the booze!”

 

“Oh yeah, a bottle of Jack, real generous.”

 

Jason’s eyes slid over to the nightstand where the whiskey resided. All the men were getting involved now. “Hey, guys, take it easy,” the ringleader said good-naturedly. 

 

“Yeah! We’re all here to have fun, right?” It was the man holding him. Jason could feel his grip slacken as he focused on his friends.  _ Now _ .

 

Jason ripped his arms lose. It took all his strength, but the idiot’s grip was just loose enough. The others were already scrambling to catch him, but Jason wasn’t running for the door. He barely even sat up. He stretched his arm out. Snatched the whiskey bottle. 

 

_ SMASH! _

 

Blood joined the liquor flying through the air as Jason plunged the jagged bottle into the throat of the man above him. His hand felt warm as beads of red rolled down the neck of the bottle and across his fingers. It took a moment for him to hear all the shouting. Jason has tunnel vision. He just saw the dying man in front of him, clawing at his throat as blood gushed from his open windpipe. 

 

Jason didn’t feel a damn thing. 

 

He spat out his own underwear, mouth dry and throat sore. In a roar like ocean waves, his senses came back to him. Jason could hear everything now; all the yelling and horrified arguing. The men were trying to organize a plan of attack.  _ Amatuers.  _ One lunged for him. Jason rolled off the bed into a crouch. He jabbed the broken bottle into the man’s thigh, snapping an artery like a rubberband. The man would bleed out in less than two minutes, Jason had seen it before. 

 

More horrified shouting. Why were they so scared? It had been funny when Jason was the one bleeding. His eyes were empty as he pounced on the next man. They were running around the room like chickens with their heads cut off; they weren’t hard to catch. 

 

Jason wasted no time driving the dagger edges into the man’s neck again and again. He didn’t flinch as he felt hot blood splatter across his face.  _ Thank god there’s a shower in here,  _ Jason thought, cool and detached as the room filled with the sound of a death rattle. 

 

_ What?  _ Jason’s eyes snapped up. Was that  _ whimpering  _ he heard? “Really?” Jason gasped aloud. There was a manic laugh in his voice as he approached fucking  _ Chester  _ in disbelief. “After all that, you’re going to cry.” The man responsible for it all was scrambling against the door. He seemed to have forgotten how locks worked in his drunken panic. 

 

As Jason watched him sputter pitifully, claw against the door like a madman, something clicked. “You know what? I kinda get it. This  _ is  _ funny.”

 

Jason buried the bottle in the man’s brain. He thrust it in so deeply that the mouth barely stuck out. There’d be no recovering that weapon.  _ Ah well.  _ Jason wiped his hands off on Chester’s pants and stood up. He surveyed the room. There was an impressive amount of blood sprayed across the walls. It looked as though far more than four animals were put down.  _ That’s a problem for Batman.  _

 

He found his clothes, got dressed. Wasn’t in a particular hurry, it wasn’t like he had any place to be. Jason’s last act before leaving was to raid the pockets of his Johns. Between the four of them, he managed to find two-hundred bucks for all his troubles. 

 

_ Those bastards could afford me the whole time.  _


End file.
